


baking and bickering

by themadtilde



Series: Saphael & Malec prompts [5]
Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Baking, Bickering, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Food Fight, M/M, Magnus is also a little shit, Simon is a little shit, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, being sappy together, everything is gay and happy, overuse of the word gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 12:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14188515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themadtilde/pseuds/themadtilde
Summary: Inspired by:Person A is baking cookies and has to split their attention between watching the timer and fighting off Person B, who keeps trying to steal cookie dough from the bowl.(Individual chapters with Malec and Saphael)





	1. Simon/Raphael

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!  
> So, English is not my native language and this isn't beta'd, meaning that any mistakes are on me.  
> This is inspired by a tumblr prompt, so no cred to me for the idea!!  
> Also I can't differentiate between American English and British English, which is my I spell some words with Z or U, or use words as couch/sofa, crisps/chips, pants/trousers ...  
> I absolutely suck at titles ...  
> I don't own Mortal Instruments.

“I’m still angry with you,” Simon informed Raphael, who was wearing a very cute, white apron with small hearts on it. The text ACETHETIC was poorly embroidered across the chest - Simon had sewn him the apron despite having absolutely zero sewing skills, and no matter what the badly stitched text claimed, the horrid apron was pretty much the opposite of visually pleasing. But Simon had made it and Raphael had a weird love/hate relationship to it and was therefore wearing it.

Raphael was currently cracking eggs into a plastic bowl, while Simon was sitting on the kitchen counter, legs dangling as if he were a little child.

“Oh?” Raphael raised one eyebrow at his boyfriend, the corner of his mouths curling upwards in a smirk. He knew that Simon was basically never cross with Raphael and those few times that they actually argued, both of them made sure to have it cleared up in the end of the day in order to not have to go to bed alone.

“Yep,” Simon nodded importantly.

Raphael wiped his hands on a towel, sighing.

“Rainbow chocolate chip cookies would be a disaster, I thought we had made that clear,” reasoned Raphael while adding sugar to the bowl, grabbing a ladle to whisk with. Simon’s eyes widened and he gasped.

“How dare you insult my aesthetic gay cookies!” Simon exclaimed dramatically, scowling at Raphael, who met his gaze unimpressed.

“In case you have forgotten, _I_ am the one making _your_ cookies,” Raphael drawled. “So I think it’s only fair if I get to decide how they will look. Especially since you -” he waved the ladle in Simon’s direction, batter dripping, “- are just sitting there, making very unwelcome comments and ranting about Dumbledore’s sexuality. Which J.K Rowling has already stated, so it’s canon anyways.”

“I know she’s confirmed it,” Simon scoffed, pretending to be offended. “Don’t you think I keep up with what the goddess herself is tweeting? I just want to express my gayness through my pastries too. Is that too much to ask for?”

“Yes,” Raphael deadpanned. “Where is the chocolate?”

“You never brought it out,” Simon supplied happily, and Raphael groaned.

“Turn on the oven, will you?” he asked, while disappearing into the small pantry. It took him a few minutes to find the chocolate - Simon had hidden it well, presumably with the hopes of getting to eat it himself. When Raphael returned to the kitchen, he was just in time to witness Simon sticking his finger down the bowl, licking experimentally on it.

“Get your filthy fingers away from my cookies!” Raphael scolded, rushing forwards to swat away Simon’s hand. Simon didn’t even have the decency to look abashed - instead, he licked his lips thoughtfully and smacked his tongue.

“You’re doing good,” he praised Raphael, meeting his boyfriend’s exasperated stare with a teasing smile.

“Thank you for your blessing,” replied Raphael flatly, giving Simon a dry look. “I do not know whatever I would have done without it.”

“Now you’re just being rude,” Simon complained, backing away and placing himself on the counter again.

* * *

“ _Dios_ , Simon, the chocolate is meant for the cookies!” Raphael all but yelled, snatching the bar from Simon’s meddling fingers. Simon had batter around his lips after yet another two successful attempts to take a sneak taste at the cookie dough, and now there was also chocolate between his teeth.

“There is more than enough chocolate!” Simon pouted at his lost candy, but Raphael was stern. Grabbing a knife from one of the drawers, he started cutting the chocolate in small pieces, still glaring at Simon out of the corner of his eye. When he was done mincing, he turned to dig up a baking sheet to place the cookies on. When he turned back, though, he saw Simon grab a handful of chocolate and stuff it into his mouth, making his hand and mouth sticky with melted chocolate.

“Simon _I swear-”_

* * *

It didn’t go better when it was time to actually make the cookies. Every other minute, Simon would treat himself yet another piece of the cookie dough, gleefully ignoring Raphael’s glowering.

“Simon, the recipe is meant for sixteen cookies but if you keep eating your dough, there won’t be even eighth cookies,” Raphael grumbled. Simon cast him a sideways glance, mouth full of dough. He had flour in his hair after Raphael had thrown a spoonful of flour at him, fed up with Simon's stealing habit.

“Hmph?” he asked, clearly not having listened. Some flour fell down in his face, causing him to splutter and wipe his cheek with his sleeve, smearing chocolate and flour all over his face. Raphael muttered something about _idiots_ and _cookies_ in Spanish, purposefully  holding a shielding arm over his own cookies in case Simon would get the idea to eat them too.

* * *

“Did you just - Simon, that was _my_ cookie!”

“You have more than enough! I only have five!”

“You ate the rest of the dough, _idiota!_ ”

“This was my idea from the start, though!”

“I made the dough while you were rambling about your gayness!”

“Fine! Here, I made a gay cookie for you.”

“Simon, it doesn’t even spell _gay_ , it looks like something Magnus’ cat threw up.”

"You are so  _ungrateful!_ "

* * *

“The cookies won’t be done quicker just because you’re staring,” Raphael pointed out. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, watching his boyfriend with a fond smile. Simon was literally sitting on the floor in front of the oven, legs crossed as he inspected the cookies through the glass. He still had flour and chocolate in his face, not having bothered to clean himself up.

Despite their endless, on the verge to infuriating bickering while making the dough and then the cookies themselves, the cookies had finally made it into the oven. Raphael was now breathing a sigh of relief, allowing himself to let his guard down. Keeping a constant eye on your thieving, mischievous boyfriend was _tiring._

“Maybe they will,” Simon chirped back, turning his head to give Raphael a cheeky grin. “They see how hungry I am and they think _poor boy, someone as cute as him deserves to have a nice chocolate chip cookie in his mouth!_ and that makes them become baked quicker.”

Raphael shook his head slowly.

“I don’t even …” he began, but didn’t finish his sentence: he just stared at his boyfriend in astonishment.

* * *

“They’re actually quite good,” Simon admitted, mouth full of cookies. He grinned at Raphael who, instead of shoving the whole cookie in his mouth like Simon, took a small, delicate bite of it and chewed thoughtfully.

“Maybe because I made them,” Raphael replied teasingly, though he had to agree, the cookies were delicious.

Simon snorted, causing crumbs to fly all over the place. “You know that if I had made them, the kitchen would be on fire now,” he pointed out, and Raphael had to nod in agreement.

“True. But I do wish that you don’t eat half of the dough next time, _cariño._ Six cookies that were lost to your appetite - you are going to have an awful stomach ache tonight.”


	2. Magnus/Alec

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Malec chapter!  
> This turned out slightly shorter than Saphael and a bit cracky/silly. I tried to keep them in character but I don't know how well that turned out. My magic is gone when I try to write Malec. I think I shipped them too hard for too long.  
> So yeah, I'm not too happy with this.

“You know I can just magick cupcakes from thin air, right?” Magnus mumbled, leaning into the crook if his boyfriend’s neck. Alec had his back to him, a disgustingly cute apron wrapped around his waist, and he hummed noncommittally as Magnus hugged him from behind.

“Not thin air,” he reminded Magnus, giving him a pointed look. “They have to come from somewhere.”

Magnus rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to Alec’s collarbone.

“I’m sure Walmart can stand losing one packet of cupcakes from their stock,” he said, ignoring Alec’s weak attempts to shake him off.

“I still want to do it the traditional way,” Alec insisted. “And you’re distracting me. Stop.”

Magnus pouted, but obeyed and extracted himself from his boyfriend. He settled for watching his boyfriend bake instead - Alec was frowning constantly, biting his lip as if making cupcake batter was something that demanded his full attention and effort.

“Can you turn on the oven while get the cupcake molds?” Alec inquired suddenly, not waiting for an answer before he disappeared from the kitchen.

“I am going to turn on more than the oven today!” Magnus yelled, but he did as his boyfriend told him.

“That was so lame,” came Alec’s shouted reply. When he emerged in the doorway again, now with purple cupcake molds in his hands, the scene before him made him drop the molds.

“Magnus!” he exclaimed, scolding. “That is meant for the  _ cupcakes! _ ”

He rushed over to his boyfriend, who had his fingers down the bowl, thoughtfully licking off the batter. Magnus didn’t seem the least concerned about Alec’s alarmed shouting; he just raised one eyebrow and pursed his lips.

“And the cupcakes are meant for me, darling,” he answered, winking when Alec gave him an annoyed look. “Really though, I had to taste them. How else would you know if they are acceptable or not?”

Alec yanked the bowl from Magnus’ hands, turning his back to him with a huff as he continued whisking. 

“You are hopeless, you know that?” he chastised.

He wasn’t angry for real, though, and Magnus knew this. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dared to slither up behind Alec again, wrapping his arms around the blue eyed boy’s waist while muttering into his shoulder:

“‘m sorry.” The apology was somewhat half-heartedly, but he pecked Alec’s cheek from behind in order to make up for his lack of authenticity.

Alec let out a huff of laughter but his rigid posture relaxed, and he turned to face Magnus.

“Just keep your meddling fingers away from my cupcakes, okay?” he asked, pressing a kiss to Magnus’ nose. The warlock nodded obediently, and took a few dutiful steps backwards.

* * *

“Magnus, can you start with the frosting while I - MAGNUS!”

“I had to try it out!”

“If you keep going like this, there won’t be any cupcakes because all batter will be eaten!”

“Now you’re exaggerating a little, sweetpea. I promise there will be at least  _ one  _ cupcake left.”

“Not funny!”

* * *

“Alexander!”

“I’m  _ right next to you Magnus _ , stop screaming!”

“We don’t have any rainbow sprinkles! Mission abort! Mission abort!” Magnus flailed his arms dramatically, and Alec rolled his eyes, sighing.

“For Angel’s sake Mags, just take the blue sprinkles I bought!”

“I can't make flawless gay cookies if they don’t have rainbow sprinkles!” Magnus protested, looking extremely distraught. Alec pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering how the High Warlock of Brooklyn could be so put off by sprinkles not being the right colour.

“Look, I think there are some purple and pink sprinkles left from when you insisted on making a cake for me on Valentine’s day. Take them and make bisexual cupcakes instead,” Alec advised, and it almost felt like he was talking to a child.

“Oh.” Magnus’ face lit up - which was an adorable sight to be honest - but just as quickly, he looked grim again. 

“But then you can't eat them.”

Alec was dangerously close to hitting Magnus with the ladle.

* * *

“Okay,” Alec sighed and stepped backwards. The cupcakes were finally in the oven, meaning that they were safe for now. He wiped his forehead with his hand, smearing flour all over his face. “Ten minutes, and they will be done. We should start with the frosting now, and yes I am saying  _ we  _ because I don’t trust you to do it on your own.”

Magnus stared at him.

“What?” Alec said, when he noticed Magnus’ expression. “I was joking, you know. I know you can do frosting on your own. I just want some frosting left for the cupcakes because if my assumptions are correct, everything would be in your stomach if I didn’t guard it.”

Magnus chuckled fondly, not denying Alec’s accusation. He walked over to the Shadowhunter, poking him gently on the forehead.

“You have flour all over your face,” Magnus informed him. Alec’s eyes widened and started to furiously wipe his face with his sleeve.

“What? Where? Is it gone?” he asked, bewildered, though his wiping only smeared the flour even more.

Magnus grabbed his wrists, holding them in place.

“No, it’s not gone. Wait, you have something right here …” he murmured, raising one hand to cup Alec’s cheek while slowly leaning in. Alec’s eyes fluttered shut and a small gasp left his lips in anticipation.

Swiftly, Magnus grabbed the carton of cocoa on the counter next to them and chucked it in the unsuspecting Alec’s face.

Alec’s eyes flew wide open and he gaped at Magnus, who had to take a few steps back in order to double over and cry with laughter.

“You … did … not … expect that!” Magnus cried, and he was seriously debating whether or not he should video this. Alec stood still, cocoa falling off his face and onto the ground.

“I …” Alec seemed completely dumbfounded and stunned, staring at his now crying boyfriend. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist!” 

Magnus straightened and pressed eight fingers in his mouth to prevent himself from giggling. But the mere sight of Alec’s astonished, offended face, covered in brown cocoa, was enough to make him erupt in laughter again, sinking to his knees on the floor. Cocoa had made its way down Alec’s neck, staining his bright grey sweater. His hair was covered in streaks of cocoa and flour.

Alec snapped out of his stupor and with a scowl on his face, he took the bag of flour and proceeded to pour it all over Magnus’ head. It was an act of pure instinct - usually, Alec wouldn’t indulge in such a childish, spontaneous thing as food war, but Magnus did also tend to bring out new sides of him he didn’t know existed.

The warlock’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ as Alec promptly dumped the flour over his head, quickly emptying the bag. Flour was flowing down Magnus’ face and shoulders, disappearing inside his shirt and the scarf that was sloppily thrown around his neck.

“Now we’re even,” Alec told him calmly, tossing the empty bag aside. He turned to check on the cupcakes, when Magnus leapt up from the floor and with a snap of his fingers, he had two eggs in each hand. Alec turned around just in time to see Magnus coming at him, and he backed against the kitchen counter.

“Magnus, don’t you  _ dare _ -” Alec warned, but didn’t get any further before Magnus slammed both eggs on the top of Alec’s head. With yolk and egg white pouring down his already brown face, Alec reached for the butter on the counter and smeared Magnus’ face with it. Spluttering and coughing, the warlock retreated backwards, but Alec followed him, determined to take revenge.

* * *

“Okay, okay, I give up!” Magnus wheezed five minutes later, now drenched in milk and even more flour. Alec himself had egg and eggshells in his hair and on his shoulder, and the egg white had made streaks in his cocoa powdered face.

“You started this,” Alec protested. “What did you expect? That I’d let you drown me in cocoa and not do anything?”

Magnus pouted, wiping his face with his sleeve and therefore smearing the flour and milk all over his face.

“Yes,” he pouted. “And now my makeup is ruined.” He looked wistfully at his sleeve, where black and purple streaks of mascara and eyeshadow were visible.

Alec snorted, about to reply something about the fact that Alec was off worse than Magnus was, when Magnus’ eyes widened.

“The cupcakes!” he spluttered, and a cold feeling of dread washed over Alec.

Turning around, he was met by the sight of almost black cupcakes in the oven.

“Shit!” he complained, stumbling forwards and yanking the oven open. Smoke welled out and he coughed, the egg and cocoa in his eyes not making it easier to see.

“This is the last time that I make you cupcakes,” he grumbled at Magnus a few minutes later, when they were staring at the plate of burnt, black cupcakes. Hesitantly, Magnus reached out and poked one of the cupcakes, causing the top layer to crumble and fall off.

“Next time, I am going to magick them no matter what you say,” he concluded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
